All is Vanity
by PhantasyPhan13
Summary: All his life, Vanity knew he was just...different. And all her life, Elf knew she wasn't normal either. While Vanity was raised in a kind family, Elf has been grudgingly brought up by her elf mother, who has been bitter about her affair with the Smurf blacksmith Vulcan. When Elf is sent to assassinate Vulcan's son Forge, everything will change when Vanity falls in love with her...
1. Prologue: Just So Different

All is Vanity

Prologue: Just So Different

Something was just not right about this blue-moon night. Papa could feel in his bones that fate had taken yet another shocking twist that would affect the new Smurfling's destiny.

Of course, all his little Smurfs had their developmental quirks-Grouchy had a bad temper, Greedy had a binge-eating habit, and Jokey tended to play pranks on other Smurfs at the most inopportune moments-but there was going to be something…._different_ about this one. And it surely would not be good at all.

Papa put aside his doubts for the moment and waited patiently for the stork to arrive. He stared at the moon as he stroked his coffee-brown beard, trying to calm his nerves. Surely, this new Smurfling couldn't possibly be worse than the others?

After all, he was only a child, and a child can always overcome whatever problems are in his way. Besides, even if the new little one's behavior was dreadful, Papa was sure that with discipline, love, and time, the bad behavior would surely fade away, as all bad habits are apt to do.

Finally, the stork arrived, carrying a white bundle that had just a tinge of pink to it. As the stork respectfully placed the bundle on the ground and flew away, Papa's heart began to race faster. Had the stork given him a daughter?

Eagerly, he unwrapped the blankets from around the new baby, but as usual, he found the face of another boy Smurfling staring curiously up at him. _Oh well, at least this one appears to be fairly normal. I guess I got smurfed up for nothing, _Papa thought with relief. He picked up the baby and stared into his eyes, trying to get a sense of what his personality might be like.

"Well, my little Smurf, I'm afraid it's rather late, and you need to be going to bed now," Papa murmured to the tiny baby cuddled up in his arms. The baby just grabbed Papa's pinky finger and sucked on it like a lollipop. Papa laughed; then carried the baby towards the tree house where all the young Smurflings were tucked into bed.

All of Papa's children were tucked in their cribs, snoring slightly as they dreamed the bright, vivid dreams of Smurflings.

Handy and Hefty were sleeping back-to-back like the true blue brothers that they were-they were even snoring in sync. Handy's arms were wrapped around a toy wrench, like he was clutching a favorite teddy bear. Hefty's small head was resting on one of his meaty arms. There was a thoughtful expression on his masculine face as he dozed. Every now and then he twitched and muttered in his sleep while he dreamed.

A couple of cribs away, two other brother Smurflings were sleeping peacefully together: Brainy and Clumsy. Brainy had his back turned on Clumsy and was facing the nearby nursery wall. Brainy looked a little bit upset, but then again, it was hard to tell exactly what a young Smurfling wearing glasses was thinking when you could barely see his eyes. However, Clumsy was using Brainy as a pillow and was smiling angelically in his sleep. He even had an arm wrapped around Brainy, like a sloth clinging to a tree.

Papa snapped out of his reverie and quickly scanned the tree house to see if he could find a free crib for the new baby. Unfortunately, all ninety-eight cribs were occupied. "I'm sorry, my little Smurf, but I'll have to make a crib for you….be right back," Papa apologized hurriedly, racing off to construct a crib for the newest addition to the Smurf family.

The little Smurfling's eyes grew wide as he took a first look around his new home. Curious about his new surroundings, he crawled across the floor and stopped when he got to Handy and Hefty's cot. Grabbing the side of the crib like a monkey, he scaled up and plopped inside. Then he toddled over to Hefty and poked him in the arm.

Both Hefty and Handy woke up with a start. When Handy got a look at the unnamed baby, he dropped his wrench and cried loudly. Hefty just tapped Handy on the shoulder and put a finger to his lips, making Handy quiet down. The unnamed Smurfling backed away from the two brothers, whimpering like a frightened puppy dog. Maybe going crib-hopping wasn't such a smart idea after all.

Handy rubbed his sleepy baby eyes, blinking curiously at the visitor. Now that he was awake, his inquisitive nature began to kick in. Dragging his wrench along with him, he flopped next to the Smurfling and banged his wrench against the floor of the cot. The little one just gazed at him questioningly before inching over to Hefty.

While Handy continued to play with his wrench, Hefty looked thoughtfully at the visitor. Trying his best to be friendly, he tossed a teddy bear to the nameless baby in an act of friendship. The baby gratefully took the teddy from a beaming Hefty. Then he began to chew and shake the toy like a puppy.

At that moment, Papa Smurf hurried back into the room, loaded down with wooden crib parts. "Where are you, little one-oh, there you are. Making some new friends?" Papa smiled as he caught sight of the three Smurflings playing together. The new Smurfling just smiled and pointed happily at Hefty.

"Well, I'm sorry to interrupt your little playdate, but it's time for you to get into your crib now. Don't worry, there'll be plenty of time to get acquainted with the others tomorrow," Papa said gently. The little Smurfling sighed, looking back at Hefty with mournful eyes. Hefty just yawned, winked at the Smurfling, and curled up in bed once more. Soon he was fast asleep, and it wasn't long before Handy rejoined him.

As Papa began to put the crib together, the unknown baby decided to do a little exploring while his daddy was distracted. Scrabbling clumsily along the floor, he somehow managed to make his way out of the open door, which Papa had forgotten to latch shut.

The baby gazed at the blue moon with awestruck eyes. Edging ever so gently across the grass blowing in the night wind, he tentatively made his way to a small patch of pinkish flowers. He plucked one off its stem and put it inquiringly into his mouth. Was this strange thing something to eat?

No, it definitely wasn't. A few moments later, the baby spat out the flower in disgust and wiped his mouth with his chubby hand. After he had managed to clear his mouth of the foul taste, he picked up another flower. He turned it slowly in his hands, admiring its beauty and its pretty scent. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but something about the fragrant object caught his interest.

Without really paying attention to what he was doing, he carefully reached up to touch his hat. Settling the flower in a comfortable position, he sighed contentedly and closed his eyes.

He opened them a couple minutes later to find himself staring into Papa's wise blue eyes. "So, you've got a little flower now, eh? Into nature, are you?" Papa chuckled as he carried his son into the tree house. The Smurfling frowned and crossed his arms adamantly. Whatever nature was, he was sure he wouldn't like it. He just liked the flower because it was pretty, that was all.

As Papa settled him down in his crib, he noticed something shiny lying on the floor. He sat up in bed and pointed at the thing, babbling to let his father know what he wanted. Papa turned around and saw what the Smurfling wanted immediately. "Oh, that? That is what is called a mirror, my little Smurf. If you look into it, you'll see what you look like. Here; try it out for yourself, "Papa explained, handing the newfangled item to the baby.

The baby Smurfling sucked in his breath when he got a look at the Smurf in the mirror. Was that really him? No, it couldn't be, for it was surely too handsome to be his own face. He blinked, held the mirror away, and looked again. No; that was definitely his countenance being reflected in that miraculous tool. And what a beautiful face it was!

Soft, round cheeks, a perfect nose, plump lips, delicate cheekbones, and handsome bright blue eyes….it was a face wonderful to behold. In fact, it was difficult for him to believe that it could be a real one, let alone his, at all. It was almost like looking at some magical dream vision of himself.

As he gazed contentedly into that gorgeous visage, he promised himself that from then on he would do whatever he could to make sure that perfect face would always look as amazing as it had today. He was so caught up in admiring himself that he hadn't noticed that Papa had walked up behind him and was observing his behavior.

"Hmmm…I see you're having fun looking at yourself in the mirror, little one," Papa mumbled, tugging worriedly at his beard. Of course, he could be entirely wrong.

It wasn't uncommon for a Smurfling to stare into a mirror for several minutes, since it was something novel and fascinating to them. After a while, though, they became bored of looking at their face all the time and went on to playing with more advanced toys, like miniature trucks or teddy bears.

But yet…there was something about this child that didn't seem quite right to him. Maybe it was the way he proudly wore the flower in his hat. Maybe it was the way he couldn't seem to take his eyes off his reflection. Or perhaps it was the way he crossed his legs in a seemingly almost feminine pose. Whatever it was, the little guy gave off the feeling of being unnaturally girlish.

_Maybe he's gay…no, that isn't possible! He hasn't even fallen in love yet, _Papa thought, shaking his head. Perhaps it was just a phase he was going through. Yes, that was probably it. The Smurfling was just enjoying the typical childish fun of posing as another gender, and he would grow out of it in a couple of years. At least, that's what Papa hoped it was.

Papa suddenly realized that he had forgotten to give the Smurfling a name. He slapped his forehead, berating himself for his forgetfulness. How foolish of him! Here he had been worrying for minutes about whether the Smurfling was gay, and he hadn't even begun to think of name ideas.

It didn't take Papa very long to think of a suitable moniker for the Smurfling. "I think Vanity would fit nicely with your personality, little one. What do you think?" Papa asked the baby, who was still staring at himself in the mirror.

The baby reluctantly looked up from the mirror, giving Papa a halfhearted glance. Why was this old man interrupting his fun? As though Papa didn't exist, he turned his attention back to the mirror and sighed, feeling satisfied when that fantastical face came into view again.

Papa sighed too and turned away, feeling hurt by the Smurfling's apparent lack of interest in anyone but himself. "Vanity it is, then," he murmured unhappily. He would have to talk this one over with his wife for sure.

The newly-named Vanity didn't even hear the depressing click of the door as Papa locked up the tree house for the night. Instead, he squirmed and positioned himself in a beam of moonlight, so he could see his reflection better.

…..

[Fifty Years Later]

_SMACK! _The bright red Smurfball sailed towards Vanity's head like a runaway comet. He glanced up from his mirror just in time to see it flying towards his face. _MOVE! _Vanity's brain screamed silently. Vanity swiftly leapt to the side, causing the ball to hit the wall of the mushroom with a pathetic thump.

"VANITY! Why did you run away from the ball? You could have made a perfect hit if you'd just made an EFFORT!" Sporty lamented, kicking the ground with his cleat-clad foot.

"Yeah, Vanity….why are you always afraid of the ball?" Hefty added softly. He glanced at Vanity with pondering eyes, waiting for the vain Smurfling to give an explanation.

"I-I just didn't want to get dirt on my f-face," Vanity stammered feebly. Hefty asked him another question, but he didn't hear a single word. He had gone back to looking at himself in the mirror once again.

For some reason, he had a funny feeling that something was just not right with his face. He couldn't stand even the smallest imperfection in his complexion, and he was definitely not going to suffer through the day with a blemish on his forehead.

Unfortunately, his premonition was correct. A huge red pimple the size of a marble stood out glaringly on his nose, as though trying to rebel against Vanity's clear skin. At this terrible occurrence, Vanity gave a shriek of terror.

"A-a zit! No! I spent all morning washing my face just so that this wouldn't happen!" Vanity cried in dismay. A bead of sweat popped out on his forehead and trickled down his face like the last drop of a dying waterfall. Vanity also caught sight of this in his mirror and panicked even more. If he got too sweaty, his eyeliner would blot, and he would start to stink like a dead cow.

Dots suddenly swam before the narcissistic Smurfling's eyes. Vanity tried to take a deep breath, telling himself it didn't matter. All he needed to do was come up with a lame excuse so he could run home to take care of his appearance. Surely, it wouldn't be a hard thing to do, since he had done it countless times before.

"Hey...guys? I think I need to go home now. I'm not feeling very smurfy," Vanity piped up, trying to look as ill as possible. "Really? Are you sick or something? You smurf really pale," Clumsy asked in concern as he straightened his baggy gray T-shirt with a picture of a rock on the front. He tried to move closer to see if something was wrong. However, he tripped and fell flat on his face just before he reached Vanity. "Gosh! Oof!"

"CLUMSY…" Brainy sighed. He rolled his eyes and straightened his glasses, which had become slightly crooked during the game. Even though Brainy was only a few feet away from him, Vanity hadn't heard him at all. He was starting to see stars again. He also felt somewhat feverish and was sweating more than ever. Vanity wondered if it had something to do with the summer heat.

A bizarre dizzy feeling abruptly swept over Vanity like an overpowering ocean wave. He grabbed a bench to steady himself against the overwhelming feeling. "Guys…I really don't feel very smurfy. I think I need to see Papa Smurf," Vanity spoke up. As usual, nobody even bothered to pay attention to him. They probably thought he was faking it to try to get attention.

Hefty was the only one who noticed Vanity's malaise. "Vanity, are you okay? Maybe you should smurf home and rest," he asked worriedly. Vanity tried to smile weakly, even though he was starting to get a smurfing headache. "Yeah…I think I should. Can you fetch Papa Smurf for me? I think I'm smurfing the flu," Vanity replied.

Hefty saluted; then ran off to fetch Papa. Clumsy came up to Vanity and spoke, but Vanity didn't quite catch what he was saying. His vision had gone completely blurry. The dizziness was now so bad that he could barely stand upright.

"Vanity? Vanity, are you okay?" Clumsy's words echoed in his head. Vanity attempted to smile, but it felt false. Something was terribly wrong with him, and he had no idea what it was. Vanity was sure that he wasn't the only Smurf this had happened to. Surely, there had to be a cure for the terrible woozy feeling that he was experiencing now. Was there?

In the corner of his muzzy brain, an answer came to him. Vanity immediately wished he hadn't thought of it, because it made him feel even worse. _Oh, by Papa Smurf's beard, I'm going to…._Vanity thought desperately as Papa and Hefty started running towards him anxiously. He didn't have time to finish his thought, because just then the horrible thing happened.

Vanity fainted.

…..

"I can't believe he….."

"Yeah, I know, he's so vain…"

"…hasn't woken up yet. Boy, that pimple must have really scared him if it made him..."

"…hush now, my little Smurfs. Please try to be quiet so that Vanity can rest. It isn't smurfy to be talking about him behind his back, you know."

"But he isn't sleeping, he's…uh…"

"…smurfed out."

Laughter and mockery reverberated through Vanity's sleepy mind as he lay with his eyes shut. He realized with great embarrassment that they must be teasing him for fainting. Anger raged though him like a flash flood. How _dare _they make fun of him for being sick? It wasn't the pimple that made him pass out; it was the heat!

Vanity's eyes snapped open to reveal a crowd of Smurflings leaning over his bed. Papa Smurf was also there, pressing a cold washcloth to Vanity's sweaty forehead. "Vanity, are you all right? You've been out for two hours," Papa asked worriedly.

"Yeah, Vanity, are you okay? I mean, I'm sure having such a huge pimple on your nose must be REALLY painful," Tuffy mocked cruelly. "Tuffy, leave him alone! It's not his fault that he got sick," Hefty argued. "But-" Tuffy said. Luckily, Hefty shoved him to the back of the crowd before he could say anything else.

"Sorry about that…anyway, are you still feeling bad? You're really flushed," Hefty asked. Vanity shrugged uncertainly. "I guess so. But can I please have some water? I think I'm a little dehydrated," Vanity replied weakly. "Of course. Just wait a minute and I'll fetch some for you," Papa answered. He placed an icepack on Vanity's head, then quietly walked to the door and closed it so as not to disturb the sickly Smurfling.

As soon as Papa left, the chatter among the other Smurflings started up again. "Boy, Vanity, are you melodramatic! I mean, is one little zit REALLY something to faint over?" Brainy sneered. "I know, right? Now he's convinced Papa that he's really sick! Besides, don't you think that old icepack clashes with his stupid _lipstick_?" taunted Handy.

Vanity opened his mouth to defend himself, but no words came out. Instead, he just trembled and dove under the covers. "Hey, Handy, that wasn't nice of you to tease Vanity like that. I mean, would YOU want someone to be mean to you if you weren't feeling well?" Hefty scolded. He had to raise his voice in order to be heard over the laughter of the other Smurflings.

"I guess not…but still, I wouldn't be fainting over a silly pimple like that," Handy muttered, unconvinced. "But he wasn't really fainting because of his pimple…he was fainting because he was dehydrated, that's all," Hefty asserted. Vanity shuddered under the blankets of his bed. He really couldn't stand to hear everyone talking about the traumatic experience of two hours ago.

"Hey, guys, stop talking about my faint! It isn't funny, you know!" Vanity cried. The other Smurflings just snickered meanly at him. "No, really, it isn't funny! And I'm NOT doing it to get attention! I was just dehydrated…" Vanity wavered. He was beginning to have doubts about himself again.

He had always known that he was different from the others-different in a way that seemed very wrong to him. Vanity had never really been very interested in male Smurf things like wrestling or Smurfball. He'd always been more into things like makeup and fashion. Whenever there was a Smurfball game, he sat on the sidelines and stared into his gorgeous face in the mirror. He never joined in a wrestling match, for the fear that somebody would punch him and ruin his perfect appearance.

Vanity had also been a bit more sensitive than the other Smurflings about his looks. While the others were happy playing in the mud and hated taking baths, he was constantly searching for new ways to improve his beauty. If he got a wart on the bottom of his foot or got teased by another Smurfling for being a sissy, he just looked at himself in the mirror or immediately tried to fix any problem that threatened to interfere with his prettiness.

Even though he pretended not to care what the others thought of him, Vanity was ever conscious of his own irregularity in ways that continually bothered him deep down inside. He told himself it didn't matter-as long as he was beautiful, everything was perfect.

But nobody understood him, and nobody loved him. Some Smurfs even thought he was gay, which always confused him. He thought that gay was just an old-fashioned word for happy, but when he asked Papa Smurf what they meant by that, he just shook his head and said that Vanity would have to wait until he was older to understand.

Just then, Hefty leaned over and tapped Vanity on the shoulder. "Vanity? Are you okay? You've been really quiet down there," Hefty asked. Vanity sat up in bed and smiled weakly, feebly accepting the glass of water that Papa Smurf handed him. "Yeah, I'm okay, Hefty. Everything's just perfect here," Vanity replied as he slowly sipped the water, trying to ignore the other Smurflings' scornful glares.

But nothing would ever be perfect as long as he was effeminate.


	2. Chapter 1: Shadows

Chapter One: Shadows

_THWACK! _The arrow sang through the air and hit the deer right in the back of the neck. It tottered for a moment, then screamed and ran straight into a pack of elf hunters lying in wait in the brush. With a terrible yell, they pounced upon the deer and slit its throat. Soon the magnificent creature lay dead on the ground, blood pouring from its long elegant neck.

A she-elf with long orange hair looked up at a small figure sitting in a nearby tree and saluted her. "Nice work, Elf!" she congratulated her daughter. The other elves, however, sneered at the elf in the tree and returned to the task of skinning the deer.

Elf just sighed and rolled her deep blue eyes. The other elves never respected her, no matter what kinds of amazing tasks she managed to accomplish. Then again, how could she blame them when she was the size of a dwarf?

All her life, Elf had been treated as an outcast among the other elves of her clan. Ever since she had been born, she'd known that the reason they were teasing her was because she was…different. And not different in a good way at all. She was different in a way that seemed very unnatural to her.

For one thing, her skin was a rather peculiar shade of bright sky-blue, unlike the normal earthen skin tones of most elves. For another, even though her mother had always assured her that she had been growing at a normal rate, she had only grown to about six inches high. Most elves grew to be about seven to eight feet high. This height disadvantage always gave Elf the feeling of being a midget in a tribe of giants.

If all of that wasn't odd enough, she still wasn't sure why her mother hadn't given her a normal elf name. Usually, elves were named after their parents, the mythic gods they believed in, or a word derived from nature. The elven language was beautiful and complex and gave those who spoke it properly a mysterious air. While the other elves had gorgeous monikers such as Lefespindel or Morgennhart, Elf had simply been named Elf.

It just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had such a plain and unimaginative name. It wasn't fair that she was constantly teased for being such a shrimp. It wasn't fair that she had such ridiculous, clashing blue skin. It wasn't fair that her mother had given birth to her without even considering the tremendous stresses that would be placed on her daughter's shoulders by not having the experience of having a father in her life.

Elf didn't know much about her mother's relationship with Vulcan other than the fact that he was a creature called a Smurf and that he hadn't married Erida, her mother, before committing the despicable act that would cause her pregnancy.

Long ago, in the depths of the woods, Erida had been on a hunting trip with her companion Claridel when she had met her future mate. Vulcan had had his leg caught in a snare, and it was bleeding like a waterfall. Curious about this strange little creature, Erida had convinced Claridel to help her free the blue imp from the trap. Vulcan had been so weak from blood loss that he hadn't even had the chance to thank her before he blacked out.

Six hours and a bit of elf healing later, Vulcan had awakened to find himself in the home of the clan shaman. He had started to panic and attempted to leap out of bed. The shaman had practically had to tie him to the bed to prevent him from moving, since he wasn't strong enough to walk yet.

It was when Erida had come to check on him after dinner that the sparks had started to fly. Vulcan had introduced himself to her and told her that he was a blacksmith for the Tuffs tribe. In return, Erida had told Vulcan about elf life and her role as a huntress in the clan. It wasn't long before they became fast friends.

Even after Vulcan had healed and been released from the shaman's home, he and Erida still met up from time to time to talk about their lives in their respective clans. This continued for years and years. Each time they met, their friendship bloomed and strengthened. After about twenty-four years, they realized that their friendship was something more….

And Erida's life was never the same again.

She and Vulcan decided that it was too dangerous to ask their tribes for permission to marry, so Vulcan impregnated her and left forever. Erida had never seen him again, and from then on she'd been forced to care for her daughter alone.

Then came the day when the Tuffs tribe attacked her clan, Vridain. Although the elves had beaten them easily, the Tuffs caused quite a bit more damage than expected. They had even managed to give Erida the crescent-shaped scar over her left eye that she still wore to this day. The Tuffs hadn't exactly said anything specific, but Erida knew there had to be only one reason for this invasion: To take revenge on her for having an affair with one of their own.

Over the years, Erida had told her daughter scattered bits and pieces of this story; sometimes adding in parts that she'd never heard before or leaving out parts that were particularly mature or painful. Eventually, Elf had been told as much of the story as Erida would allow her to hear. She had become convinced by her mother's bitterness and reluctance to talk about her father that Vulcan was a terrible person who didn't even bother to think of her. Why hadn't he come to see her after all these years? Didn't he love her? Or did he just not even care about her at all?

Either way, Elf didn't want to find out. All she knew was that she would support her mother no matter what. If those vile Smurfs came to attack Vridain again, Elf wouldn't let them give her mother another scar. She'd fight to the death until the Tuffs learned their lesson about having affairs with elves.

"Elf? Elf, are you coming?" Erida called as the hunters began to drag the deer away. Elf nodded, causing her curtain of waist-length black hair to fall into her face. "Yes, mother," she replied. She carefully climbed down the tree and landed gracefully on the ground. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, and then trotted off after the hunters to assist in carrying the carcass home.

Just as she was grabbing onto a deer leg, a loud roar echoed throughout the forest. The hunters stopped and pricked up their long pointed ears. "Elf…stay close to me. This could be bad," whispered Erida. Her delicate face puckered in worry, and her curved eyebrows flew up like the tail of a hawk. "I will," Elf answered worriedly. She quickly jumped beside her mother and crossed her fingers behind her back. If it was another umbra wolf coming to attack the clan….

A huge bloodstained muzzle burst through the trees, followed by the snarling body of the umbra wolf that bore it. "HUNTERS! READY YOUR BOWS!" called Extala, the leader of the hunting expedition. She took her hunting knife from her belt and tensed. The other elves followed her example and prepared their own weapons.

Elf was frightened to death at seeing the slobbering face of the ferocious lupine fiend. She had heard many legends about the dark creatures, but they were far more terrible in the flesh than they were in the stories. The pure black beast raised its head. Its nebulous body swirled around it as it considered whether the group of elves was worth the trouble of killing.

Apparently, the umbra wolf thought that the hassle of fighting the elves would pay off once it got its gleaming claws on their meat. With a terrible growl, it reared up on its hind legs and slashed the air. Its pupil-less silver eyes glowed with malice as it fell down upon Erida.

"MOTHER!" Elf wailed in agony. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her only parent to the vicious jaws of the mythical monster. Calculating swiftly, she aimed her bow and let her tiny silver arrow fly. She hoped that it would work and deter the lupine spirit from the kill. If this all turned out wrong, she could be putting the entire clan of Vridain in danger.

…

"What was that?!" Clumsy squealed. He jumped at the echoing sound and dropped the water-filled bucket he was drawing up from the well. It tumbled dangerously through the air and landed right smack dab in Vanity's face.

"AAHHH! MY MAKEUP!" Vanity shrieked. He tore the bucket off his head and glanced nervously at himself in the mirror. He had hoped the damage wasn't too bad, but unfortunately he looked more like a clown than his normal pretty self at the moment.

He gulped and tried to stop the stars from spinning before his eyes. _Don't get all lightheaded for nothing. You'll just get teased if you smurf out, _he told himself as he attempted to wipe the ruined cosmetics off his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Vanity, but-I heard something just now! It sounded like a huge w-wolf or somesmurf," Clumsy stammered. He hung his head apologetically. "It's all right; I suppose I can just go home and reapp-wait, did you say a WOLF?!" Vanity gasped.

Clumsy looked up and nodded tentatively. "Yeah. And it sounded like it was REALLY big…maybe we should go and smurf Papa Smurf, just in case it's something bad," Clumsy faltered. "That is, I'll go and tell him…you should just go and put your makeup back on right now. You look awful."

"I know. Thanks for reminding me," Vanity snapped irritably. This whole wolf thing was really getting on his nerves. _What a smurfid excuse! I know he was trying to ruin my beauty! Why doesn't he just say it outright? Oh, the cheek…_Vanity grumbled mentally. He understood how sensitive Clumsy was and knew better than to berate him out loud. However, that wasn't enough to stop him from being really smurfed off at Clumsy's maladroit behavior.

_If Clumsy ever decides to wear a really smurfy outfit in the next week or so, I'll trip accidentally-on-purpose and shove him into the Smurf River. That'll show HIM what it feels like to have your good looks ruined in front of everyone, _Vanity mused. A devious smile threatened to overwhelm his indifference. If he ever got that opportunity, he definitely wasn't going to let it slip out of his hands.

"Uh…Vanity, run! The wolf's right behind you!" Clumsy screamed. He scrambled klutzily away from Vanity, but he tripped and landed flat on his face as usual. "Oh, come on, Clumsy! Do you really think I'm going to fall for that one AGAIN? I've got to save my face from your foolish blunders!" Vanity sniffed. He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. _Clumsy really is quite an idiot to keep using __**that**__ old excuse_, Vanity thought.

But he changed his mind the instant the horrible black demon burst forth from the bushes. Its pupil-less silver eyes glowed with malice. It had thick black fur that shifted in and out of focus like fading mist. Sticky light-grey saliva dripped from the sharp white fangs that poked out of its massive jaw.

In short, it was like something out of anybody's worst nightmare.

Vanity was so frightened that he let his mirror fall to the ground. He tried to force his legs to move, but for some reason his muscles wouldn't respond. _Come on, you stupid feet! You go jogging every morning! You KNOW how to run! Why won't you run THIS time, which is probably the only time I've ever needed to run in my whole existence?! _Vanity fumed. Even so, his limbs still stubbornly refused to budge a single inch.

The ominous stormcloud of a wolf stalked closer and closer. Soon it was so near that Vanity could smell its breath, which had the odors of sea mist, rotting carcasses, dusty wind, and blood all mixed together in it. It made Vanity wish he had a breath mint handy, so he could give it to the wolf before the malodor knocked him unconscious.

The wolf let out a low growl and leaned in close. "Do not trust her," rasped the creature in a voice full of shadows and despair. "W-what do you mean? I don't love anyone except myself! And I'm not even a female!" Vanity protested. He hoped that the wolf wouldn't notice that he was holding his nose. He knew it was a bit of an insult to the wolf's breath, but he really couldn't stand that terrible smell any longer.

"Still, I advise you heed my warning," rumbled the wolf solemnly. "If you trust her, then terrible things will happen to you and your family. A new member will die. The village will be thrown into chaos and misdeeds. Others will see you in a mirror of shadows. She will make sure that they won't trust you if you associate with her. And remember-blood will be spilled if you do not take me seriously…"

Vanity was so dizzy that he only understood half of what the wolf had told him. "W-what did you say? Did you say I would kill someone? Why would I do that? It's not as if anyone's out to kill ME. I mean, I am rather attractive and all, but that's really no good reason to end my life…" Vanity stuttered. He glanced around, searching for an opportunity to get out of smelling range of the wolf's breathing. Perhaps it would go away entirely now that it had told him whatever nonsense it spat from its mouth.

The wolf's moony eyes unexpectedly bulged with anger. It gave out a shrill howl that sounded like a wind spirit being tortured. A vortex of spinning black energy whipped up around the wolf like a personal tornado. "Foolish narcissist! You did not even BOTHER to listen to me for the simple fact that I am not as beautiful as you!" wailed the wolf. "Now, because of your idiotic actions, you will have to pay dearly-with your life!"

"But-I didn't do anything! What were you trying to tell me? I'm innocent!" Vanity sputtered in protest. He didn't have another chance to protest, though, because the wolf stamped its paw with the thunder of a rainstorm. A loud crack rippled through the forest as trees fell all around them.

The whirlwind of shadows swept up around Vanity and carried him high above the ground. He struggled and kicked in a futile attempt to escape. "Now you'll be getting your just desserts for your imprudence," cackled the wolf. It rubbed its paws together in glee, as if eager for the torture to begin. It stamped its paw against the earth once more. The tornado began to swirl so quickly that Vanity soon lost all sense of direction.

"Let me go! You'll break my mirror! And you'll probably make my complexion turn all green!" Vanity complained. The wolf simply gave its paw a languid lick of indifference. "If you had wanted to live, then you should have bothered to listen to me," the wolf snarled contemptuously. "Now you'll just have to enjoy this rather melodramatic death that I have planned for you. And from what I understand of the character of most narcissists, you should enjoy melodrama such as this VERY much…"

The vortex twirled faster and faster and faster. Soon it was so rapid that Vanity saw stars again. He tried to think of a plan to escape, but his brain was too hazy. None of his thoughts made any sense. He could hear the wolf howling with laughter in the background. He wondered what he had done in his short life to deserve this kind of cruel fate.

A beam of light abruptly pierced through the darkness of the hurricane. Vanity wasn't a particularly clever person, but he was desperate to live. Almost instinctually, he lifted his mirror and aimed it at the wolf. The ray of sunshine, amplified by Vanity's mirror, hit the wolf right in the center of its gibbous eyes.

As though blinded by the sunlight, the wolf staggered backwards and pawed at its eyes. "Now you've REALLY done it!" thundered the nightmarish beast. It raised its head and let out another howl that was far more bone-chilling than the first. As though reacting to the baying wolf, the vortex flung Vanity towards a gigantic rock. The world went by so fast that even the malicious wolf was merely a black blur in Vanity's vision.

"HEEEELP! SOMEBODY SAVE ME!" Vanity yelled. He was almost on the verge of hysterics at this point in time. He heard a gruff shout and the scuttling of several feet somewhere underneath him. "Leave him alone, for the sake of the universal tide!" proclaimed a curiously impassive voice. Vanity swiftly identified the speaker as Amnesiac Smurf. Who else would be talking like an emotion-deprived hippie to an evil wolf in a situation like this?

He saw a flash of essence-colored light eclipse the frightening image of the raging lupine creature. The explosion and Amnesiac's voice chanting an ancient spell were the last sensations he experienced before hitting the rock and losing consciousness.


	3. Chapter 2: Uneasiness

Chapter Two: Uneasiness

_If I ever see that umbra wolf again, I'm not going to let him get away without a few scars for what he did to my mother, _Elf swore as she walked alongside her limping mother. Although the wolf had wounded Erida's leg badly, it hadn't caused as much damage as the elf hunters had been expecting.

Instead, it howled out a strange warning to Elf and whipped up a mini shadow vortex. Luckily, Elf had managed to leap out of harm's way before it swept her up. Unfortunately, the tornado had managed to knock out three elf hunters. The failure of its attempt to kill Elf had stoked the wolf's rage, causing it to try to wound Erida for a second time.

Elf had no intention of seeing another silver gash open on Erida's flesh again. She had managed to successfully shoot another arrow into the wolf's eye. This seemed to have the effect of blinding the wolf, for it had stumbled about, clumsily uprooting shrubbery and saplings.

It had given Elf a look of pain and fury before muttering something under its breath and hobbling away into the depths of the forest. The vortex had disappeared just as mysteriously.

With the wolf gone, the elf hunters left standing were able to carry the unconscious elves back to the clan. Although Extala had generously offered to help Erida walk, Elf had insisted on assisting her mother all the way home.

The scratch turned out to be far more serious than both Elf and Erida had thought. The wound required a few stitches and copious bandages from the clan shaman, but on the whole it wasn't too bad and Erida was allowed to walk as long as she kept her weight off the injured leg.

Since Erida couldn't hunt as often, Elf had found herself following the elf hunters out on trips deeper and deeper into the forest. She had always been an avid huntress, but something else was propelling her onward through the thick undergrowth of the woods.

She wanted an answer for everything in her life. She wanted an answer for why her father never came to see her in Vridain. She wanted an answer for why her mother hated Vulcan so much and why she'd allowed him to impregnate her. And most of all, she wanted an answer for why that umbra wolf had stormed the hunting party out of the blue and hissed out that creepy love warning to her.

A snapping twig brought Elf back from her reverie. She looked around quickly, trying to see who or what had made that sound. "That was me, Elf," Erida answered sheepishly. Elf just stared at the ground and didn't answer. There were more pressing matters on her mind than simply chatting idly over a crushed stick.

"Elf? Is something wrong?" Erida inquired. She crouched down next to Elf in concern. Her long dawn-colored hair fell softly around her delicate circular face. The sun reflected off her locks, giving her the impression of a blooming poppy springing up from the earth.

"You can stand up normally. I prefer being addressed as a regular elf, if you don't mind," Elf retorted bitterly. Surprised by her daughter's brusqueness, Erida stood up swiftly, as though to escape her daughter's acerbity. "Are you upset about being different from the other elves? You know they appreciate you, even if you're a little shorter than they are," Erida assured her.

Elf shook her head adamantly. "No, I know that! It's just-there's so much about my life that you know and I don't! It isn't fair! Why hasn't Vulcan come back for me after all these years? Why did you let him make you pregnant with me if you hated him so much? And what was that stupid umbra wolf talking about in the first place? If there's something you haven't told me because I'm too young, then tell it to me now! I'm not a baby anymore!"

"Elf, look. There's just too much about my relationship with your father that's too painful for me to talk about," Erida said, a little sharply. "It's not that you're too young to hear it-I know you're a capable and mature girl now that you've turned 100. You've always been able to handle things like this very well. You know we loved each other, but we knew our clans wouldn't allow us to marry. If we had been able to, then-"

"-You would have. I know, I know! You've told me that a thousand times already!" Elf sighed in exasperation. "But what I really want to know is-did you really love him? If you hated him all this time, why did you let him do it? Life wouldn't be so painful for me if you'd just gotten the guts and married him! Then I wouldn't always be wondering why my father has never bothered to even write, or why you weren't brave enough to just marry him, or why you let him-"

"Elf, that's enough for now. We'll talk about this later, when I think you're ready and when I know I'M ready," Erida said in a tone that clearly stated that this was the end of the matter. Elf let out a frustrated sigh and fell silent. Even if her mother wanted to keep any details of Vulcan to herself, she would find out about him one day. If she didn't, then she would spend the rest of her life searching for the truth.

….

"Vanity! Wake UP, you lazy thing!"

A familiar, irritated female voice shouted at Vanity. The words echoed through the ether of his groggy mind over and over again. _Leave me alone. I'm exhausted, _Vanity pleaded wearily. He didn't want to wake up. His head was throbbing in a terrible way. The ache pounded in his head like the beating of a hammer. It was so bad that it didn't seem worth it to even open an eyelid.

"Leave him alone. His mind is in an extremely weakened state. He needs to rest and recover before he is able to revive," replied the calm voice of Amnesiac. "But-Amnesiac, he's been out cold for fifteen minutes already! He should've gotten up by now!" protested the girl again.

"Ven, you don't understand what he's been through. He's just been contaminated with shadow energy, not to mention getting smashed headfirst into a boulder. Getting hit in the head like that is hard enough for ANY normal being to convalesce from. What's making it so difficult for him is the energy that the umbra wolf discharged in that vortex," Amnesiac explained.

"Yeah, well, I don't see why getting swept around in a mini tornado would knock him out for this long. I mean, I guess it isn't that long, compared to the coma that YOU were in, but-"Ven trailed off.

Amnesiac interrupted her before she could continue. "Ven, that was a completely separate case and you know it! I was very young when that comet hit me in the head. It cracked my skull right open! There was no way I could have woken up, even when I finally gained my psychic powers and started to dream. It took a hundred years for my skull to heal from that trauma. Even now that I've regained consciousness, it still hasn't healed completely. It may never heal completely. But luckily for Vanity-"

"-He only got whacked in the head by a psycho umbra wolf. I get it," Ven sighed. "You just don't understand the way of the psychic mind and the patterns of the universe, do you?" Amnesiac grunted. "Yeah, well, you're a total hippie and I'm a warrior like Katniss Everdeen! But that's beside the point," Ven pointed out. "What really matters is this: How long is it going to be before Vanity finally snaps out of it?"

"Well, judging by the condition of his unconscious mind, the possible toll that the shadow energy took on him, and that nasty lump on his forehead, I'd say his recovery time could be anything from ten more minutes to four hours," Amnesiac calculated.

Ven slapped her forehead. "Oh, great! Well, I guess four hours isn't that bad. He's an annoying, vain jerk as it is anyway. Actually, I think I'll be relieved if he's out for a couple of hours. That way I won't have to put up with him bragging about his pretty face. Thanks for the great news, Amnesiac."

"Whatever," Amnesiac sighed.

_I've got a bump on my forehead?! Oh, good Smurf! Let's hope it isn't that bad, _Vanity thought. He wondered whether he should open his eyes and see how bad the damage was. He couldn't bear the thought of an accidental injury marring his eternal prettiness.

_I guess I'll just open my eyes for a little bit and see how awful it is. If it's really that terrible, then I can just go home and pretend it never existed, _Vanity decided. He slowly dragged open his leaden eyes and found himself looking into the faces of Ven and Amnesiac. "W…what happened? Is that wolf gone? And is that bump really horrible?" Vanity moaned.

"Oh, look. Sleeping Beauty's finally woken up. Nice to see you, sunshine," Ven cracked. "Ven, please try and go easy on him. He doesn't look like he's feeling very well at the moment. Just make peace with him this time, if you can," Amnesiac admonished her. "I guess. Should we tell him that his lump is half the size of Alaska?" Ven questioned.

"WHAT?!" Vanity cried in horror. He tentatively reached up to touch the bump on his forehead. He winced from the pain and gently poked around it. Ven's claim didn't seem to be too far off. It was quite a sizable knot. It would take at least a week to reduce the swelling.

Vanity sagged back down to the ground, feeling quite faint. "Oh, woe is me," he groaned. He dramatically placed the back of his hand on his forehead. "There he goes again, acting like the drama queen that he is," Ven muttered under her breath. "Ven, I said be nice to him! Look, if Vanity was giving YOU a hard time when you were sick, you probably wouldn't like it very much, would you?" Amnesiac blurted in an exasperated voice.

"Yeah, but if I was sick, I wouldn't be anywhere near that guy. Look, I'm sorry, Amnesiac, but I don't hang around with gay Smurfs like HIM," Ven retorted. "Who said he was gay? Perhaps he's simply a narcissist," Amnesiac defended.

"I don't even KNOW if I'm gay! Just leave me alone, all right?" Vanity burst out. His sexuality was always a sensitive topic. He had been accused of being gay before, but he wasn't sure if it was true. The only person he was enamored with was himself. He wasn't sure if that made him gay or not, but even if he was, he didn't want someone to talk about him in such a demeaning way.

"Enough accusations of gayness and witty banter!" Amnesiac interrupted. "What I came here to do was to revive Vanity and make sure he's all right, and that's what I plan to do right now. Vanity, do you think you can get up and walk to your house by yourself? Or do you need help?"

"I'm okay," Vanity replied faintly. He sat up and managed to get to his feet. He gave Ven and Amnesiac a weak smile before he proceeded to stumble home. "Geez, that bump really threw him off," Ven snorted. "I know…I'm a bit worried about him," Amnesiac agreed. He called out worriedly to Vanity as he continued to stagger through the village. "Are you sure you don't need help? You can lean on me if you have to!"

But Vanity hadn't heard him. The only thing on his mind was the baffling message the umbra wolf had conveyed. _What on Smurf did it mean? I haven't fallen in love with anyone in my life and I don't plan to, _Vanity pondered. _And why would it be talking about all of that blood? Surely Papa wouldn't allow any violent deaths around here. Whatever may happen in the future, I'm sure nothing really bad will smurf. Even if something does happen, I'm pretty sure there won't be blood involved in it. And if there is...well…I'd better stay out of the way. Blood always did make me feel so lightsmurfed…._

Vanity was so deep in thought that he didn't realize there was somebody running towards him. A few seconds later, Clumsy crashed into him. They both fell to the ground and landed on their tails.

"Ooof! I'm sorry, Vanity! I was rushing and I didn't see you there!" Clumsy apologized. "Hey, are you okay? You have a huge lump on your head. Did that wolf do that to you? If so, I'm really sorry…" "It's not your fault, Clumsy. Besides, I have more important things to do than sit around and apologize all day," Vanity replied haughtily.

"Yeah? Like what?" Clumsy asked, feeling hurt. Vanity noticed this, but he pretended not to care. "Like getting my face back in shape, for Smurf's sake! Haven't you noticed how terrible I look right now? Good Smurf, one of these days they'll mistake me for a goblin! Anyway, I've got to rush and reapply my makeup. Ta-ta!"

Vanity quickly got to his feet and scuttled towards his house. He could hear Clumsy sniffling behind him, but he told himself that it would be all right. Once he looked beautiful again, everything would be perfect. And it would be like that every day of his life. As long as he was pretty, life was great. If he wasn't, then everything would cease to be meaningful anymore.

"Vat do you think you are DOING? Leaving zat poor leetle boy alone to cry like zat? What a coldhearted demon you have become, dear cousin!" demanded a masculine voice with a thick French accent. Vanity looked up to see a bushy brown mustache blocking his view. "Ummm…I'm sorry, Handsome! I didn't see you there," Vanity stammered awkwardly. The Smurf whom the mustache belonged to frowned and crossed his arms. He seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"Vell? Have you decided to do anything yet?" Handsome pried. "Decided to do WHAT?" Vanity burst out in exasperation. "To apologize to ze boy, of course," Handsome replied airily, as if that were perfectly obvious. "Vat did you think I vas talking about? Combing my mustache? Mon schtroumpf, dear cousin, you can honestly be SO absentminded at times!"

"You're right, Handsome, I was being a jerk. I'll go apologize to him right now," Vanity admitted sheepishly. "Zat's de spirit! Now go! And remember to apologize like a MAN and not like the wimpy leetle pansy you can be at times!" Handsome enthused, giving Vanity a rousing thump on the back.

"Yeah, I should-wait, did you just call me a PANSY?!" Vanity gasped in indignation. Handsome gave him a smug grin and stood up to his full height. He was one inch taller than Vanity, which was enough to intimidate him at the best of times. "Of course I called you a pansy, dear cousin! You ARE a pansy! Don't try to lie and say you aren't!" Handsome confirmed arrogantly.

"For the thousandth time already, Handsome-I am NOT gay!" Vanity exploded. He just couldn't take it anymore. The day had already been terrible enough, what with the umbra wolf screaming at him and getting knocked out. Did Handsome _really _have to go and make it worse by poking him in his sensitive spot? He was really adding insult to injury.

Handsome looked at Vanity and realized that he had gone a bit too far. He lowered his head, feeling ashamed of his actions. "I am sorry, dear cousin," Handsome sniffled. "I really did not mean to say something so offensive about your sexuality. I should have thought before I opened my big hairy mouth. Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah. As long as you don't make me comb Smurfberry pie crumbs out of your mustache, we're even," Vanity replied. He held out his hand to Handsome in a gesture of forgiveness. Handsome clasped it firmly, and the two cousins shook hands.

"Admit it, Handsome….you're just jealous of my pretty face," Vanity joshed when they were done. "Ah, no, my dear cousin! I wish you would just admit zat YOU are jealous of my handsome mustache!" Handsome retorted. "No. YOU wish that you'd shaved that old caterpillar off a long time ago so you could have the delicate cleanliness of a shaven face…like mine," Vanity argued. "But dear cousin, you don't even shave! You haven't even STARTED to grow a beard yet, because you are only a hundred and fifty! Whereas I, being blessed by Mother Nature herself, have the privilege of being one of the few young male Smurfs to have facial hair already…"Handsome rejoined.

It wasn't long before the two cousins were arguing over each other's beauty like stray dogs over a scrap of food. Neither of them really minded, though. Both Smurfs knew deep down inside that each wasn't as pretty as he himself was, and they loved each other no matter what. Even if one cousin was suspected of being gay, they would support each other through thick and thin.

Neither of them knew just then that all it would take was one girl to tear them both apart for a long time.


End file.
